What To Do When Alcohol Turns You Gay
by Andie O'Neill
Summary: A drunken night forces Shawn to do some soul searching.


What To Do When Alcohol Turns You Gay

By Andie O'Neill

Rating: T

Genre: Humor, Romance

Pairing: Shawn/Lassiter

Warning: Innuendo, slash, language

Summary: A drunken night forces Shawn to do some soul searching.

A/N: I know it's been done before but I couldn't resist putting my own spin to it. :D

Disclaimer: I don't own the show or it's characters.

* * *

It wasn't the first time he'd awoken with a warm body next to his and no memory of how it got there. Shawn vividly remembered Tom Blair's Pub. Gus was out of town for some stupid Pharmaceuticals convention, and Spencer hadn't been taking it very well. He wasn't used to being on his own and with no cases to distract him; Shawn was beginning to go a little nutty. The idea that a little alcohol and a very attractive woman could be the best distraction of all had crossed his mind once or twice, and Shawn was simply too desperate to ignore it. It had seemed almost brilliant at the time. When he'd reached the Pub he remembered ordering drink after drink, which was a bit excessive even for him, and it just got more and more fuzzy the more he drank. It was nice to know he could blame the events that followed on being totally and completely wasted, but somehow it didn't make him feel any better.

He remembered waking up with an arm wrapped around him, and a feeling of peace that he hadn't felt in a very long time. His head was pounding like never before, but it didn't even seem to bother him because he felt warm, safe, like being wrapped in a soft shell taco (only he was the delicious beef in the middle.) He knew the pain would ease eventually and relaxed into the warm body draped over him… that is until he felt a strange appendage that wasn't supposed to exist poking his ass. At first he'd prayed it was just a hand, but since he was pretty sure humans had only two of those (unless he'd banged a hot alien chick), he was ninety nine percent sure that couldn't be possible. Despite the pain of light in his very sensitive eyes, Shawn forced them to open and slowly turned his head to see who the stranger in his bed could possibly be. The girlish scream that followed unfortunately was not uttered from a hot female he'd managed to seduce despite being incredibly drunk, but instead escaped from his own lips as he leaped from the bed as if it were on fire (the pain in his head be damned.)

His unconscious companion immediately awoke upon hearing the loud scream, and Shawn wasn't sure his eyes could get any wider as horror and surprise flashed on his (and yes he did mean HIS) face. Shawn wasn't exactly sure which disturbed him most about the entire situation he now found himself in… the fact that he'd awoken naked and in bed with a man, or that said man was none other than Head Detective Carlton Lassiter. The detective looked like he was five seconds away from having a massive heart attack. "SPENCER?!"

Between the major head pain, the fact that he was pretty sure he'd slept with a man last night, and the fact that said man was Lassie-face (of all people in the world), it was safe to say Shawn's brain had long since imploded. He couldn't even begin to tackle everything that was wrong with the whole scenario and Shawn simply had no idea what to do or say. Without said brain to rely on, Shawn had been forced to turn to other organs for assistance. Since most of them were busy keeping him breathing, pumping blood through his body, and cleaning said blood it was pretty obvious Shawn was screwed. "We didn't have sex!" he found himself saying, an obvious sign that his brain really wasn't working because any good detective (hell even a bad one) would have known better. Lube and condoms sat on Shawn's floor (which was currently covered with clothes. If that wasn't enough to convince him there was also the very sore ass (how the hell had he missed that?!) and the fact that he and Lassie were currently naked.

Despite overwhelming evidence (and Shawn had used less to solve a case) the pseudo psychic seemed insistent on holding fast to the belief that he had not slept with Lassiter. It simply wasn't possible, because he didn't sleep with men (yup, and if he repeated it often enough maybe it'd actually be true.) Carlton seemed just as eager to agree as he scrambled to grab his clothes in lightening speed (and Shawn was pretty sure he'd never seen him move so fast… even when chasing criminals.) "Of course we didn't! There's just no way! There must be some plausible reason as to what we were doing naked in your bed… we didn't have sex."

Lassiter's voice was higher than normal and Shawn could only stand there butt naked and watch the detective making a hasty retreat. Shawn knew he often flirted with Lassie, mostly to make the man uncomfortable, and that's all it'd ever been. Shawn slept with women. Shawn liked women. Lassiter slept with women. Lassiter had been married to a woman. It was a joke and nothing more, only it didn't seem nearly as funny now as Lassiter pulled on his pants and made a mad dash for the door like his life depended on it. When he was still standing by the bed as naked as a Jay bird fifteen minutes after Lassie had long since left, he figured he should probably move too (maybe get dressed or take an extremely long shower.) Shawn had never felt so off in his life, and until his brain finally decided to come out of whatever room it was hiding in (or the closet… but he wasn't going there just yet), Shawn just didn't know what to do.

* * *

Shawn knew he often liked to seem like a pretty easy going guy… not easily surprised or freaked out, but some things just were not okay with him. Watching his father suck face with a woman for example, was not okay. Putting lettuce on a delicious burrito was not okay. Running out of churros was _definitely_ not okay. Watching Gus do the Macarena after consuming an extreme amount of alcohol was NEVER okay. Sleeping with Carlton Lassiter… now that was a tough one. If someone had asked him that question years ago when they'd first met Shawn would have replied with a slap to the face and a call to his lawyer, but somehow it seemed harder to answer now. During the longest shower of his life which had resulted in prune skin, he'd tried to process the fact that he'd slept with Lassie. He'd tried to get himself to remember, but the events were fuzzy and he could only make out sounds of pleasurable moans and suddenly his brain would disappear like a turtle's head under its shell. He didn't know how to feel. Was he supposed to be disgusted? Terrified? Angry? Pleased? Excited? Horrified? How did one feel after an experience like the one he'd just had.

If Gus were around he'd probably freak out more than Shawn. He'd probably go on and on about the fact that of all the people Shawn could have had gay sex with, it was simply too disturbing to imagine that it'd been with Lassiter. Gus would freak out at the thought of details and tell him to seek help. Shawn would find his friend's discomfort funny, and somehow it'd feel like a weight had been lifted from his chest because he'd no longer be thinking about what it was that was bothering him. Everything was always so much easier when Gus was around. Gus wasn't around. Gus was in Seattle listening to boring seminars. Gus was in another state when Shawn needed him most. Gus was also, apparently, not answering his cell phone at the moment. Shawn didn't know what the hell he was supposed to do, and he needed to talk to someone before he started talking to himself while the men in white coats took him to the happy room with padded walls (also known as the nut house.) Since Gus was (as mentioned) out of town that left only one person Shawn could talk to (despite just how uncomfortable and possibly haunting the conversation would be.) He needed to talk to his father.

* * *

When Henry Spencer opened the door, Shawn could tell right away that he was in no mood. The glare and folded arms were his first clue. "What do you want, Shawn?" he practically grumbled. It was unbelievable! Shawn was in crisis and his dear father, his flesh and blood, was look at him as if he were a burden or something… some kind of nuisance.

Shawn pushed past his father, and into the house, looking around before he turned to face his father, eager to talk to someone. Desperate times called for desperate measures. "I need to talk to you."

Henry sighed, closing his door as he turned to face his son, a weary look on his face. "Look Shawn, I swear to god if you brought another stray cat with fleas into your apartment and need a place to stay-"

"It happened two times! Besides, I only stayed over here the second time. The first time I stayed with the Guster's."

"Who kicked you out because you'd slept with their daughter," Henry reminded him.

Shawn winced at the memory (and not the part where he'd fooled around with Joy because that was awesome), but the part where they'd all found out about it… including Gus. That had not been a good Christmas... except for maybe at the end there. "Okay seriously I get enough grief about that from Gus, can we please move on from that?! I've got bigger problems here than fleas!" Shawn shouted, frustrated already. How the hell was he going to have this conversation with his father?! He could only imagine Henry's reaction.

"Okay, okay son… I'm listening," he assured Shawn, taking a seat on the couch, hands linked in his lap while his feet rested on the coffee table. His eyes were practically burning holes into Shawn's head as he kept them steady on Shawn.

The younger Spencer hesitated. Obviously he hadn't quite thought things through, because after finally receiving his father's undivided attention it occurred to him that he had no idea how to start their conversation off. What the hell was he supposed to say. _'Hey Dad, don't get mad, but apparently I'm gay now!'_ Oh yes, that would go over quite nicely. Or perhaps a different approach. _'Hey Pops, you know how you always told me to stop sleeping around with women… looks like you have nothing to worry about!'_ It was more positive, but still didn't seem quite right. Maybe if he just jumped right into it? _'So I woke up this morning, and you'll never guess who was in bed with me!'_ No, that wouldn't work very well either. His father was terrible at guessing games, and Shawn didn't have the time. There was the ever popular hypothetical question. _'So Dad, I have this friend, a guy, who just woke up this morning to realize he'd gotten drunk last night and slept with another man. What are your thoughts on that?'_ Even that didn't seem to feel quite right. He was so screwed.

"Look Shawn, as fun as this is, I do have things I need to do today," said Henry impatiently, already moving to get up off the couch.

"No, no, no! Wait!" Shawn shouted, raising his hands in a gesture to get Henry to stop. "I'm sorry! I just… it's not exactly the easiest conversation," Shawn explained.

Henry gave him a long look, and with a sigh sat back down. "Shawn, just come right out and tell me what's on your mind."

"Okay fine, but I need you to keep in mind that I was extremely drunk at the time, and after we have this conversation it'd be nice if we could pretend none of it ever happened."

"Done, now spill," pushed Henry.

Shawn took in a deep breath, letting it out in a huff before he opened his mouth to speak. "So I got drunk last night… really drunk… cause you know Gus is gone, and I was bored, and it seemed like a good way to distract myself from the fact that my best friend is in another country. I don't really remember what happened, it's all kinda fuzzy. All I do know is I woke up this morning and I wasn't alone-"

Henry raised an eyebrow. "So you had a one night stand, big deal… you've hand hundreds of those."

Shawn narrowed his eyes. "Dad, can we save the interruptions please? I'm trying to tell you a story here. This isn't very easy for me telling you all this," the younger Spencer whined, a little annoyed about being interrupted.

Henry rolled his eyes. "I apologize son… continue."

Shawn nodded, pacing now, unable to look at Henry anymore. "Okay here's the thing. This person wasn't just some random woman. In fact… it wasn't a woman at all. It was a guy… as in a dude, of the male persuasion… and it was… it was Lassie!" When he finally turned around to face his father, Shawn wasn't sure what he'd expected to see. He hadn't even been sure what his father would say. All he knew was of all the scenarios he'd thought of, the dead-panned expression and lack of surprise had not been one of them. "Did you even hear what I said? Dad! I slept with Lassiter last night! As in sex! As in the horizontal tango! As in my ass is sore and it's not because I fell down a flight of stairs! As in-"

"Christ kid, I know what sex is!" interrupted Henry with a wince, and at least he was finally reacting. Cause Shawn was getting more freaked out by the lack of reaction than the fact that he'd slept with Lassie! "I just don't see what the big deal is."

"You don't see what the big deal is? You don't see what the BIG DEAL is?!" Obviously aliens had kidnapped his father and replaced him with someone else. Or maybe his father had finally decided to see why drugs were all the rage. "Am I being Punk'd?" Shawn looked around the living room, glancing behind a window curtain. "Where's Ashton Kutcher? Isn't this the part where he jumps out and I pretend to laugh even though in reality I just want to kick his ass?"

Henry snorted in amusement, leaning forward. "No Shawn, you are not being Punk'd."

Okay, so he wasn't on reality television. Still, it didn't explain why his father was suddenly okay with his son sleeping with men… especially men named Lassiter. "Fine… you've been reading Mr. Spock… that's it isn't it?!"

Henry huffed, shaking his head. "Okay first off, that's Star Trek. You're thinking of Doctor Spock," Henry corrected.

Shawn shrugged. "I've heard it both ways."

Henry through his arms in the air, frustrated. "Shawn, this is ridiculous!"

"No it is not! I just told you I had gay sex and you didn't even bat an eyelash! Doctor Phil! That's gotta be it! You've been watching Doctor Phil!"

"No Shawn."

"Maury?"

"Shawn-"

"Oprah!"

"Damn it, Shawn! I am not watching anything! I just don't see what the big deal is! So you slept with Lassiter! What?! You expect me to be surprised? Well, I'm not! You've had so many jobs they could probably put you in the Guinness Book of World Records, half of which were jobs I didn't think existed! You're posing as a psychic detective for the Santa Barbara Police Department! You scream like a girl and you run like one too! Hell, I've been _waiting_ for this day! I hate to break it to you kid, but I've long since stopped being surprised by the things you say and do," Henry practically shouted. After a moment he sighed, picking up his mug of what looked and smelled like coffee and took a sip, looking far too cocky.

Shawn wasn't quite sure what to say to his father's words, grudgingly having to admit that he did have a point. "Fine!" he shouted, grabbing the mug from Henry's hands and shattering it against the floor. "Surprised now?" he asked. He wasn't sure what drove him to do it, but he simply couldn't stand the idea of his father being right.

Henry rolled his eyes, turning to the side and grabbing the broom and dustpan from beside the couch, and Shawn's eyes narrowed as he cleaned up the mess. "Grow up, Shawn."

Shawn was frustrated. He was freaking out! He didn't need to grow up! What he needed was someone to freak out with him! "You know, I don't think you realize just how insane this is! I'm standing here questioning my sexual orientation and you're just sitting around like its yesterday's news!"

"That's because it is yesterday's news, Shawn! You think I'm the only one who doesn't see it? Gus once told me you sat in Lassiter's lap… now how many straight men do you know that do that?"

Shawn tried to think of someone… anyone that he knew of that would do such a thing, but his mind was coming up blank. "People sit on Santa's lap all the time," he finally said, feeling a little pride at the fact that he'd come up with such a great example.

"Those are kids, Shawn… I'm talking about grown men. Whether you wanna admit it or not, you obviously were feeling something for the guy a long time ago, only you were just too stubborn to admit it." Henry stood, walking around the coffee table as he laid his hands on Shawn's shoulders, and the younger Spencer immediately tensed, not quite sure what his father was doing. This was not the same guy Shawn remembered growing up, and it was freaking him out. Henry had a soft look in his eyes, and a proud smile, that only put Shawn further on edge. He gave his father a suspicious look. "Shawn… I told you this before and I'll say it again. I accept you… just the way you are… gay, straight… hell even bi. It doesn't matter. You will always be my son."

Shawn was starting to wonder if his alien abduction theory hadn't been so far off. "Are you absolutely sure you're my father?"

Henry groaned, turning around and walking away. "Do me a favor kid and let yourself out! I don't have time for this," he grumbled.

Shawn watched his father go, surprised when he realized he somehow felt better, and cracked a small smile. "Thanks Dad!" he shouted.

Henry just waved it off, not bothering to look back. "Anytime, kid!"

* * *

When Shawn had finally gotten up the nerve (and courage) to visit the SBPD he'd immediately noticed Lassiter sitting at his desk going into his paperwork like a child devouring candy bars. Shawn was pretty sure he'd never seen the detective so interested in paperwork, as he usually tried to shirk those fine duties onto Juliet's desk. Shawn was pretty sure confronting Lassie at the station was not one of his better ideas, but he had no choice in the matter. He certainly couldn't wait, and trying to get Lassie to let him into his house would just be a waste of time. The fact was, just because he was okay (well, it wasn't the worst thing that had ever happened) with the fact that he'd had sex with another man didn't mean Lassiter was gung-ho about the idea. Before he even tackled the idea of a repeat performance he needed to talk to Lassie. He wasn't even sure what he was yet. He still found women attractive. As he glanced over at Jules he still noticed her chest, and enjoyed the view very much, so obviously he wasn't just gay. Maybe he was bisexual? But wouldn't he have known by now? He'd never really thought about being with other guys before (not until he'd woken up in bed with one that is.) Or maybe he just wanted Lassie. Maybe it wasn't about sexual preference. Maybe it was just about the fact that he found Lassiter attractive, enjoyed the chemistry between them and that was all that mattered.

Shawn cleared his throat and walked toward Lassiter's desk, nodding at the officers that walked by, and giving Buzz a quick high five before he finally swung over to sit on Lassiter's desk. "You know you could have at least stayed for pineapple pancakes. They were absolutely delicious if I do say so myself," he began, trying to look relaxed even though on the inside his brain was desperately trying to escape again. Lassiter looked awful, as if he'd been having the worst day of his life. Shawn could relate, but he had a feeling his soul searching had been far more productive than Lassie's considering how uptight he looked (more so than usual.) Lassiter didn't even look up from his work. "What? Is it too early to make jokes?"

"Spencer, as you can see I'm extremely busy right now and I really don't feel like dealing with you on top of everything else," Lassiter told him, his eyes so focused on the papers before him Shawn was beginning to wonder if he'd ever look him in the eyes again.

"You certainly didn't mind dealing with me last night," Shawn reminded him.

Carlton immediately stiffened (and Shawn hadn't thought he could get anymore stiff.) "I thought we both agreed last night never happened."

Shawn shrugged. "My extremely sore ass seems to disagree."

Lassiter groaned, rubbing his face, and Shawn almost laughed as he watched the detective blush bright red. "It's about to feel even worse if you don't get the hell out of my sight!" the detective growled, though his voice hushed in order to ensure that no one else heard.

Spencer just smiled brightly, not the least bit worried. "What? You wanna fuck me again?"

Carlton's eyes widened as he looked up at Shawn. "This isn't a joke, Spencer! We… I mean I… we… oh Christ!" The detective hung his head, eyes closed and Shawn couldn't remember seeing the other man so flustered.

"Look Lassie, I've had time to think about it, and I think it shouldn't be such a big deal. These things happen… somewhere. Maybe not often, but they do happen." Lassiter looked positively miserable and it was at that moment that it occurred to Shawn that perhaps Lassie didn't want to explore further. Perhaps he'd just received his answer, and Lassiter really did just want to forget it ever happened. Shawn wasn't quite so sure he could do that… mostly because forgetting didn't exactly come easy for him (and that's what happens when you have an eidetic memory ladies and gentlemen!) "Or we could forget it ever happened," Shawn finally said, trying to keep the disappointment from his voice (because he wasn't supposed to be disappointed… right?)

Finally Lassiter looked into his eyes, curious, as if he was trying to solve some grand mystery. "You were the one that seemed so eager to pretend it never happened," Carlton reminded him. "If there's one thing I've learned over the years, Spencer, it's when you go quiet something has to be wrong. And now you're sitting here telling me your interested?!"

Shawn paused for a moment, not quite sure how to take Lassiter's outburst. He looked positively frustrated and confused. Maybe he was wrong before. Maybe Lassiter hadn't been quite as disturbed with _who_ he'd woken up next to, but with the _reaction_ of said person. Shawn looked around the station, and then back at Lassiter, shrugging. "Give me a break! I'd never slept with a guy before."

Carlton didn't seem convinced. "Oh really? Somehow I doubt that," he muttered.

Shawn frowned. "Okay seriously, has someone been spreading rumors? Do I have a sign on my back saying 'Closet Gay' or something, because I just talked to my Dad and he didn't seem surprised in the least that we'd slept together," Spencer complained.

Suddenly Lassie looked positively stricken. "You… talked to your father? About what happened?!"

Shawn rolled his eyes. "Relax Lassie, he likes you! Even told me he wants you there at the next family picnic. Actually, I think he might prefer you to me-"

"Spencer!" Lassiter shouted, cutting Shawn off, then sighing loudly as a few of the officers stopped what they were doing and looked over at them. Lassie rubbed his face, his skin flushing just a bit. Getting up out of his chair, he let out a calming breath, then grabbed Shawn's shirt and yanked him off the desk. Shawn had to resist a bright smile as he felt Lassiter's arm wrap around him and lead him towards an empty interrogation room before turning to look at him. Shawn took a seat on the table, legs swinging as he waited for Lassie to speak, when it seemed that the detective was at a loss for words, Shawn decided to fill in the silence once more.

"Look, I don't remember much about last night. Everything's still a little fuzzy from all the alcohol, and maybe it was all just a fluke. Maybe it was just some crazy drunken night. But I'm just not gonna walk around ignoring the big camel in the room. For one thing their absolutely adorable… I simply can't resist that. We had drunken sex and it's not just going to go away if we stick our fingers in our ears and start singing show tunes," Shawn explained.

Carlton was looking at Spencer, looking as if he was trying to judge just how serious Shawn was. "That's… surprisingly mature of you," Lassiter noted.

Shawn shrugged. "I'm having an off day." It was in that moment that it occurred to Spencer that they were jumping ahead a little bit. He barely remembered the sex, and he wasn't even sure he remembered kissing Lassie. If they really were going to see where things took them, it seemed logical that Shawn ran one little test first. He jumped off the table, staring at Lassiter.

"Spencer?" Lassie questioned the suspicion returning.

Shawn's eyes never left the detective's lips. "Just one thing," he spoke, walking up to the Lassie. Before Carlton could say a word Shawn grabbed the back of his neck and pulled him down for a kiss, and Spencer was surprised by the jolt that flew through him the moment Lassie's lips touched his. He'd kissed a lot of women in his time, and none had ever made him feel like this. It sealed the deal, and Shawn knew he had his answer. Maybe it wouldn't be so bad after all. Maybe he really could do this… date a guy. He closed his eyes, forcing Lassiter's mouth open to explore further, and felt his heart do a couple flips when the detective melted into his arms, kissing him back. If a kiss could do this, than Shawn didn't even want to think about what would happen when they had sex again. He could totally get used to this. Suddenly he was wondering what he'd been so freaked out over. His Dad had been right… it wasn't a big deal. It was, in fact, awesome (and Shawn knew awesome when he… in this case… felt it.) Shawn was just getting the nerve to slide his tongue into Lassie's glorious mouth when he heard an awkward cough, and broke the kiss to see Juliet standing before them, an amused smile on her lips. "Jules!"

"O'Hara!" Carlton gasped, jumping away from Spencer. "What the hell are you doing here?!" His eyes were wide, and the look of horror was back on Lassiter's face. Shawn did his best not to be offended. He was pretty sure it'd be a while before Lassie got used to the idea of being with Shawn.

O'Hara's arms were folded, one eyebrow quirked. "Chief Vick's looking for you, so you should probably save this make out session for another time and place," she told them, not missing a beat and Shawn was almost proud. She turned and walked back toward the door, before turning back around. "Oh and by the way… you might want to pick a different room next time. Buzz was eating lunch on the other side of that mirror and you gave him quite a shock."

"Buzz?" Shawn questioned, looking over at the window, silently wondered how much the other man had seen.

Juliet's smile grew. "How else do you think I found you?" she said and closed the door to leave them alone once more.

Shawn turned back to Carlton who was blushing again, groaning as his hands rubbed his temples. He looked absolutely mortified. Shawn just laid a hand on Lassie's back. "If it makes you feel any better, at least now we don't have to tell anyone you're taken… I don't share."

"Spencer-"

Shawn raised his hand, rolling his eyes. "I know! I know! Shut-up," he spoke with a sigh.

Carlton glanced up at him, and Shawn didn't miss the faint smile. "Hey what do you know… maybe you are psychic," he joked, leaning forward to give him a gentle kiss before he walked towards the door.

Shawn grinned. Oh yeah… he could definitely get used to this. "Oh, and it only took you three years to figure this out?!"

"Don't push it, Shawn," Carlton muttered as Shawn followed him out the door.

Shawn wasn't a psychic. He had no idea what the future held for the two of them, but he was looking forward to finding out. Who knew a little alcohol (okay a lot of alcohol) and gay sex could open so many possibilities? Shawn couldn't wait to tell Gus….

The End


End file.
